You're Still Wrong, Mykels Aug. 2020 Blog Vol 2: WHAT OLD PEOPLE DO!

 

YOU'RE STILL WRONG.. 

MYKEL'S AUGUST 2020 BLOG

VOLUME 2

OR

WHAT OLD PEOPLE DO

by Mykel Board

In America, the land of the perpetually young, growing old is an embarrassment and dying is seen as a failure. – Harold S. Kushner

Suffering and understanding are deeply connected; death and self-awareness are in league. – Denis de Rougemont

Olivia de Havilland died? What a shame! She was 104 years old… had her whole life behind her. It’s just awful. Such a tragedy.

I know. It’s so sad. And what about that Regis Philbin? 84 years old and poof! Just gone! It’s terrifying. Quick! Close everything NOW!!!! Old people are dying!

And Granny! It was so horrible. She had diabetes, chronic lung infection, pneumonia… and she just died. Can you imagine a woman like that just up and dying?

Flash to small talk: At a wedding party… you meet a young man, full head of hair tight chin under his scruffy beard.

“And what do you do?” you ask…

He answers.

“Oh, still in grad school,” you say, “What are your plans for the next decade or so?”

“Well, after I graduate,” comes the answer, “I think I’ll take a trip around the world. Then, look for a job in an emerging tech company. You never know when Google will be on a buying spree.”

Flash to small talk TWO, same party: an older man. The fringe of hair left is deeply gray... eyebags like a shopping trip to Safeway… wisps of gray beard missed in shaving.

“Ah, grandfather of the bride?” you ask.

He shakes his head. “Of the groom.”

“And what are your plans for the next decade or so?” you don’t ask.

“I plan to die,” he doesn’t say. “That’s what old people do. We die.”

Get it?

We have a panic. The government is asking… sometimes demanding… that everyone change their lives to protect the old and the sick. Society upends. There is more sudden poverty than at any time since the great depression. Why? So that old and sick people don’t die.

I’m pushing 80 years old. I’m a high risker. And I’m going to die! You know? That’s what old people do. That’s what EVERYBODY does. You don’t save lives… the best you can do is postpone death. Does this come as a shock to you?

Why should…

Hey Mykel!

Fuck! I’d know that font anywhere. It’s The Literary Device. Okay, I’ll bite. What the hell do you want?

Where are you going with this? As if I didn’t know. You think, since old people and sick people are going to die anyway, that asking everybody to sacrifice to save them is a worthless sacrifice.

“Worse than worthless,” I answer. “Destructive! We’re harming the many to save those who won’t be saved anyway.”

Think, Mykel... since everyone is going to die anyway, why have lifeguards at beaches… or EMT? You’re not saving anyone, you’re just postponing death.

“First,” I say, “what gives you the right to butt in here anyway. You’re just a literary device… you’re not even human. Second...”

BINGO! That’s exactly what gives me the right. I’m one who WON’T die. Literary devices live forever. That gives me some perspective.

“Shut up!” I yell back. “Second, you have a good point. I should have said that given the way this epidemic goes: You don’t save lives. the best you can do is postpone death… a little. Is it worth it?”

Who are you to judge?

“I’m Mykel fuckin’ Board. That’s who. I have the same right to give my opinion as anyone else. And I hate to see lives wrecked... people afraid to leave their houses... last chance meetings missed... plans destroyed... kids taught that other humans are dangerous and being too close to them will kill those kids… the idea of social followed immediately by the idea of distancing… We’re destroying ourselves to save people who would die soon anyway.”

Young people get the virus… even kids. It’s not just a the sick and the old disease.

“Neither is the flu, the common cold, or e-coli,” I answer, “But most people get over them. Corona is unpleasant for a while, sometimes needs heroic measures, but more than 90% of the people who get it, get over it. In the meantime, people’s lives are ruined –forever– by the fear of it. They won’t get over it. Future generations are ruined by lack of real schooling, lack of human contact, lack of a social life… except for DISTANCING. A $600 –or Trumpian $400– check is not going to fix that.”

So what do you propose? Overwhelm the US healthcare system? It’s the worst in the so-called developed world. You want to make it impossible to treat any other disease than the pile of COVIDS?

“Ah,” I reply, “you’ve hit the problem. We’re fucked from the start by living in such a primitive country. Worst medical system… except for the rich. And that’s a problem… for once in my life... I don’t have an answer to.”

Bingo!

- end -

ENDNOTES: [You can contact me on facebook or by email at god@mykelboard.com. Through the post office: send those... er... private DVDs..or music or zines... or anything else (legal only!) to: Mykel Board, POB 137, New York, NY 10012-0003. If you like my writing, you can be notified when anything new is available. Send me an email with SUBSCRIBE in the subject line. Back blogs and columns are at https://mykelsblog.blogspot.com

Had enough yet? dept: There’s a great story (with an awful headline, cut from the picture below) that just reports and doesn’t take sides. It’s so rare to see any balance from anyone these days.

To mask or not to mask… no conclusions. That’s the way it should be.

→ Bird Flew dept: Meaww.com reports that a British man pleaded guilty to having sex with chickens and having his wife film the act. Rehan Baigalong with his wife, Heema Baig, appeared for a hearing before a judge and pleaded guilty to 11 charges including three of performing an act of penetration on chickens.

Funny, fucking a chicken is a criminal offense, but killing one is not. Values anyone?

→ Swine get it right dept: Meanwhile, the Ripley’s site shows us a flu animal that gets it. There are, evidently, dozens of cases where pigs, farmed for their flesh, EAT the farmers. They do a pretty good job. One family reports a farmer’s remains as “his dentures and a few small body parts-- that’s all.” The article does not say if there are records of pigs fucking humans (though it seems to me I’ve seen the 8mm films). I have no idea if it would be legal or not. But if people aren’t allowed to do it to chickens, you’d expect that pigs wouldn’t be allowed to do it to people. You never know, though. If you do it... send me a picture, will ya?

--See you in hell!

LINK TRADE DEPARTMENT:

I read that the search engines like lots of links... and it's also nice to support my friends and enemies in their blogs. So facebook me or email me if you have a blog, webpage or something else to connect to. I add you. You add me.

Here's a start:

Here’s Richard Goldberg: goldberg.wordpress.com

Poetry and humor fans will like Justin Martin in The Latency

And my friend Mike R has a nice site with recipe hits from the past! (He cooked for me once... great stuff.) Check out Yesterday's Recipes.

And here's one by a member of ANTI-SEEN... a tour diary of sorts.

Andy Shelton has an interesting blog here.

Savage Hippie is a guy who has been YouTubing for a long time. Our opinions largely overlap... but he complains that I'm a Communist. I'm not! I'm a communist.

Chris Stecher publishes a zine called PRECIS. You can see the back issue links there... and he promises a new issue soon.

George Fertakis has a very nice graphics-heavy blog... with music and books featured prominently. If there’s no link here (I can’t find it temporarily), then Google… er… Duckduckgo him for information.

And my long-term pal Sid Yiddish contributes with his Mishegas Master Blog.

Here are a couple video links.

This from Jon Cox https://squelchchamber1.bandcamp.com/album/down-so-low

And this one from my very long-time friend Roger Armstrong.

Oh yeah, then there’s me. I have a blog of stuff I’ve written mostly from last century. You might enjoy it. Then again, you might not. It’s here.

Let me know if you have a blog… or a print zine… or a YouTube and want to be added to the list. You show me yours… you’ve already seen mine. god@mykelboard.com

YOU'RE STILL WRONG.. MYKEL'S APRIL Vol 2 2020 BLOG OR Who Is That Unmasked Man? by Mykel Board

YOU'RE STILL WRONG.. 

MYKEL'S APRIL 2020 BLOG
Volume 2

OR

Who is that masked man?

by Mykel Board

[I’ve completely given up the idea of splitting the blog into smaller parts. It just doesn’t work well. So now, I’ll just be writing shorter blogs… but more often. Twice a month if I can manage it. This is the second April Blog. I wanted to avoid talking about IT… but these days IT is all there is to talk about]

You’re STILL Wrong

or
Mykel's

April 2020 Blog/Column #2 (version 2)

The Mask

by Mykel Board

A castaway in the sea was going down for the third time when he caught sight of a passing ship. Gathering his last strength, he waved frantically and called for help. Someone on board peered at him scornfully and shouted back, "Get a boat!”

―Daniel Quinn,

The police drive into the plaza with a megaphone reminding people to isolate. Then they harass the homeless people that have nowhere to go. It is very weird to see this here in NYC. Do they do this in higher class neighborhoods where people do the same socializing? Redundant question. I know. I wish I had videotaped. --Esneider Huasipungo

It’s just after noon. Time for my afternoon walk to the grocery… post office… the river… someplace to see the city like I’ve never seen it before. I put on my combat boots, trenchcoat, fedora. I do not wear a mask.

Walking down a nearly deserted Bleecker Street. I wave through the window of Cafe Angelique. Elam, the manager and only worker during the plague, waves back.

“Chag sameach!” I shout.

He gives me the thumbs up. I keep walking… passing several masked people.

[NOTE: from my observation, the majority of masked people –not counting bicycle deliver guys, generally black or Mexican– are white millennial couples… mostly hets. Then, single or paired women. Fewest are people my age… that is, old people.]

On Lafayette Street, Lester stands at his usual corner. He is not wearing a mask. Lester is the directions guy. Every day, he stands by the subway, looking for people Googling a map, or holding a guide book. He knows the subway system up and down. After he gives directions, he asks for spare change. Sometimes he gets it. Today, nobody Googles. No tourists are checking guidebooks.

Usually Lester’s with his friend, a woman about my height, looks about 60… but very wrinkled. I forget her name… maybe I never knew it.

“Yo Lester,” I say to him. “S’up? Where’s your friend?”

“Mykel,” he says, “it’s shit. Not a soul here. I don’t eat today.”

I hand him a dollar… one of a few I keep in my jeans watch pocket for homeless expenses. Lester is not homeless. He has a small room in city housing.

“Thanks,” he says. “Let me tell you about Laura. [Aaaah, that’s her name!] I had to smuggle her. The city shelter where I live said NO MORE GUESTS… SHE’S GOTTA LEAVE. The virus… you know... you know her, Mykel. She’s little. She’s fragile. She couldn’t last a night on the street.”

“So what’d you do?” I ask.

He walks to the side of me and touches my arm. I flinch… immediately feel ashamed. There are few things that can shame me… but a flinch at the touch of a guy asking for money? I’m not proud of that.

Lester pretends he doesn’t notice. He mimes holding a shopping cart with two hands.

“I hid her,” he tells me, “in a shopping cart. Just put her in and threw in some left over groceries… some cans and bottles… a few cereal boxes… pretended I was coming back from shopping. Smuggled her in. Hid her in the closet when the case-worker came around. She knows how to hide, that girl does.”

I want to kiss him. That kind of love/bravery is something these white millennials with masks don’t get. This guy lives in public housing. If they catch him violating the rules, he’s out on the street. What place… in the midst of a plague… is more fearsome than the street? I don’t kiss him, but I do hand him another dollar.

I turn from Lester and walk uptown. The street is nearly deserted except for a few masked woke folks giving me a wide berth.

Whoa! There’s Dexter. I’ve known him for years. As usual, he stands outside the Korean Deli. We bump fists.

“Yo Dex,” I say. “How’s it shakin’?”

“Up and down when I finish peeing,” he says.

We both laugh… same joke… at least once a week for the last 2 years.

Dexter shakes his head. “I donno Mykel,” he says, as I hand him a dollar. “Look around you. There’s nobody on the street. Usually I make four or five bucks an hour. Today, your dollar is the first bill I got all day. All I got is a few quarters.”

He reaches into his pocket to show me. I hand him another buck.

“You don’t have to do that, Mykel,” he tells me.

“Ok,” I say, “give it back.”

He laughs… We both laugh.

“Sorry I can’t stay and talk,” I tell him, “I gotta get to CVS to buy some cough drops… It’s this post nasal drip… allergy… everybody thinks it’s CORONA. I’m afraid someone is gonna punch me.”

“I’ll protect you, Mykel,” says Dexter.

“Hah!” I say, “If I could afford a personal bodyguard, I’d hire you. But you might have more work than you expect. Some people don’t like me very much.”

He smiles like he gets what I’m talking about. We bump fists again and I head downtown to the CVS on Astor Place.

On the subway, I wonder about Calvin, my homeless friend who sits on a milkcrate outside the Peculier Pub. I’ve known him for almost as long as I’ve known Dexter. He’s got family in South Carolina… like I do. Somehow he visits them every year… I think he hops freight trains. We often talk about how nice people are in the South, and how good the food is.

“Everything except the politics,” I say… I always say… and we both always laugh. I don’t think I’ll get to see Calvin today.

Getting out of the subway, I walk over to the CVS about two dozen steps away. In front of the drugstore is a random white guy… holding a coffee cup. He needs a haircut and a shave, but in this plague everybody needs a haircut and a shave. Maybe he’s homeless. These days more and more white people are.

“Hey bud,” he says as I approach, “can you spare something?”

“Sorry,” I tell him. “I gave my last buck to a guy up the street… I may have something when I get out of the store.”

“I’ll take that,” says Random Whiteguy, “I may have something is a hell of a lot better than I usually get.”

I smile, wave at him and go into CVS. A clerk wearing a red t-shirt and a blue mask asks if she can help me.

“Where are the cough drops?” I ask.

She takes a step back, then points, “In the middle of Aisle 4, on the right,” she tells me… and takes another step back.

I thank her. Go to the aisle. No Fisherman’s Friends so I pick up some Halls and go to the cashier. I NEVER do self-checkout. The only time I tried, it accused me of stealing something.

The cashier, wearing a pink mask, sits behind an improvised plastic bank-teller-like window. She rings up the sale and one of her gloved hands takes my twenty-dollar bill.

“Could you give me some singles?” I ask.

She nods and hands me a ten, five singles and some change. I thank her, put the change in my pocket, the ten in my wallet and four of the five singles in my watch pocket. The other single, I keep in my gloveless hand.

I leave the store… there’s Random Whiteguy… approaching the masked NYU students who are breaking their isolation for necessities like bubblegum-flavored vaping tobacco. No one stops for Random Whiteguy.

He recognizes me as I leave. I show him the dollar.

“I got a dollar for you,” I tell him. “I wish I could afford to give you more but...”

I can’t think of an appropriate ending for the bullshit sentence.

He pretends not to notice.

“Thanks a lot, Mister,” he says. “I really need it.”

“Good luck to you,” I tell him.

He waves.

As I leave Random Whiteguy, some jockish-looking young man is approaching. He walks like King Kong… arms at his side puffed out… each hand in a fist…

“Get a mask!” he shouts at me. “Keep everyone safe. You shouldn’t even be out, let alone spreading corona from street beggars.”

I lose it.

I spin on my heels. Head down like a bull. POW! Headfirst into his chest. He’s down. SMACK… the back of his head hits the sidewalk. I hear a crunch. He’s dazed.

I put a knee on each shoulder and punch his chest. Then point to the homeless white guy.

“I’ll… stay… home… when… that… guy… has… a… home… to… go… to!” I say, punching his chest… right-left… after every word. “Where’s HIS mask? Where are HIS gloves?” I smack the jock in the face… open handed… right then left.

“I’ll wear a mask when Lester, Dexter, Calvin and that random white guy have masks to wear. I’ll practice social fuckin’ distancing when these guys don’t have to live their lives socially distanced from everyone who passes and sneers ewwww cooties.”

A trickle of blood drips from under his mask onto the sidewalk. I keep smacking away.

“You say your mask keeps everyone safe. You don’t give a shit about everyone. You think your fuckin’ mask will keep YOU safe.” I rip his mask off and spit in his face.

“There’s your safe, asshole! People live on the street and you say STAY HOME. What about them? They ARE home.”

Actually, I don’t do any of that. I just ignore the guy and walk past. I wish I were younger, bigger, with more cajones than I really have. But I’m not.

--end--

ENDNOTES: [You can contact me on facebook or by email at god@mykelboard.com. Through the post office: send those... er... private DVDs..or music or zines... or anything else (legal only!) to: Mykel Board, POB 137, New York, NY 10012-0003. If you want to be notified when a new blog is published, send me an email with the subject line SUBSCRIBE BLOG. Back blogs and columns are at https://mykelsblog.blogspot.com.

Oh yeah, in case you doubt what I’m saying about the REASONS people wear masks… check out this on the local deli window. And the protectees? YOU AND YOUR FAMILY! It’s not to protect old people like me. Keep everyone safe my ass!

But wait! There's more! How ‘bout this ad from facebook? The height of fashion… no mention of the virus at all… but we all know what it means, right?

 LINK TRADE DEPARTMENT:

I read that the search engines like lots of links... and it's also nice to support my friends... and enemies... in their blogs. So facebookme or email me if you have a blog, webpage or something else to connect to. I add you. You add me.

• From my friend and fellow poet, Richard Goldberg: goldberg.wordpress.com
• I post a blog for Kyle Nonnemon, in prison for a ton of shit. He's a smart guy, with a passion for industrial metal and a general detestation of humankind. You can read his blog at: apothelema.blogspot.com
• Poetry and humor fans will like Justin Martin in The Latency
• And my friend Mike R has a nice site with recipe hits from the past! (He cooked for me once... great stuff.) Check out .Yesterday's Recipes
• And here's one by a member of ANTI-SEEN... a tour diary of sorts.
• Andy Shelton has an interesting blog here
• Savage Hippie is a guy who has been YouTubing for a long time. Our opinions largely overlap... but he complains that I'm a Communist. I'm not! I'm a communist.
• Chris Stecher publishes a zine called PRECIS. You can see the back issue links there... and he promises a new issue soon.
• George Fertakis has a very nice graphics-heavy blog... with music and books featured prominently.
• And my long-term pal Sid Yiddish contributes with his Mishegas Master Blog.

     

You're Still Wrong... Mykel's April 2020 Blog or I'm So Honored...

YOU'RE STILL WRONG.. 

MYKEL'S April 2020 BLOG 

OR

I'm sO hONORED TO bE eLECTED

by Mykel Board

I never expected to be here in front of you all… writing these words… presenting this to the world stage. Those who know me well, know that I don’t aim to be a winner. Victories are for schemers, steroid users, corporate shills, scum in general. The good, the right, the brave, the fair, the compassionate, are losers. Winners are never good people and vice versa.

But somehow I did it. I beat the odds. was elected. I don’t know how I did it, but I know I couldn’t have done it without the help of each and every one of you. I owe you… and I will now explain how I’m going to pay you back.

I assure you, I don’t take the office of God lightly. As one newly elected to the position… I have my work cut out for me. These are perilous times we live in. Times of despair… times of panic… times of anger. I hear people calling out to me… even those who don’t believe I exist, are calling my name.

“Oh please God!” “God save us!” “God forbid!” “God damn it!”

I’ve heard you all. Here’s what I’m going to do for you.

First, there’s Hoaryville… on the drawing board for years… but we’re going to build it.

[Audience chant: Build the ville! Build the ville! Build the ville!]

We need a place to take care of the aged, the sick, the weak. We need special protection for those who cannot protect themselves. We will build the ville! Yes, I’m one of those. I’m fuckin’ GOD, after all. You can’t get older than me. I’m older than the universe! Older than Joe Biden… for fuck’s sake. We, the elderly... the weak lung-ed... those with immune system problems. We’re most at risk of heavy consequences and we need to be removed from the general population. So there will be Hoaryville… a place for all of us to cavort freely with each other… a place where every resident is in the danger class, tested and admitted to free luxury accommodation in Ft. Lauderdale.

Then there’s the panic. Humanity is losing itself. People walk the streets in gloves and masks. Human contact is forbidden. The arts: musea are closed. Theaters are shuttered. Shops and restaurants are empty. You can’t go into a bar that doesn’t reek of Purell. And in New York and more cities as we speak, you can’t go into a bar at all.

People have turned themselves into recluses… often with violence against anyone who dares shake hands. Cities in Europe are on complete lockdown. Like cattle dancing into an abattoir, citizens around the world shut themselves in homes and apartments… going out only for food and even then... wearing rubber gloves and a face mask.

The actual threat is minor. No worse than the flu… that killed 61,000 people in one year… infected 43 million! Without panic. Without singing happy birthday over the soap in the sink. But let there be a new disease... One that started in (woooooo…. scary) China… and people are buying 50 rolls of toilet paper and punching random Orientals!

Well, I’m going to end that… and end it fuckin’ soon! Except for the residents of Hoaryville, you all are going to meet each other. You’re going to shake hands, share quesadillas, mouth kiss, and butt fuck. You’re going to hold on to subway polls and pass dollar bills to homeless people. Some of you are going to get sick… like the flu… and you’ll get over it and never be able to get the same disease again. Instead of killing off weak viruses… so only the strong survive… you’ll be building your own body’s natural defenses so that YOU are stronger than the virus and not the other way around.

[Audience chant: Share the virus! Share the virus! Share the virus!]

You’re going to be so fuckin’ immune that you’ll tolerate the worst cases of corona, swine, bird, Ebola. Your tolerance will increase so much that you’ll be able to shrug off the casual use of girl or Negro. You’ll be so tolerant that you’ll sit on the subway next to that Chinese lady with a surgical mask… and maybe even comment on the weather to her. You’ll be so tolerant that you’ll be able to go to a karaoke bar (yes, they’ll all be open) and smile when someone sings My Way.

Your immune system will be so built up that you’ll be able to tongue kiss that homeless guy on the corner… the one you just gave a dollar to... and you can play scat with granddad on his eightieth birthday. You won’t fear foreigners or cripples.

You’ll volunteer to feed the hungry... without wearing rubber gloves... ride an elevator without using your elbow to push the buttons.

As your elected God, I have big plans for you. And you can’t avoid them. You can hide at home… under a pile of Lysol… Yes, you can hide, but you can’t run. You’re going to have human contact. You’re going to love your neighbors… and I don’t mean VIRTUALLY love them. I mean nose in the sphincter, dick under the armpit, tongue twat-deep love them.

You’re going to share the feasts, take candy and cookies from the same box… break bread… pick up food from a communal plate with communal chopsticks. You’re going to eat Chinese, Italian, Korean. You’re going to belch, fart, cough and spit. You’re going to felch, cum guzzle, and puke. And you’re gonna love it.

The time of saying Goodbye, Stay Healthy is ending. The time of saying Yo! Let’s go out for a drink! Is returning. And you can –and should– thank God for that.

- end -

ENDNOTES: [You can contact me on facebook or by email at god@mykelboard.com. Through the post office: send those... er... private DVDs..or music or zines... or anything else (legal only!) to: Mykel Board, POB 137, New York, NY 10012-0003. If you like my writing, you can be notified when anything new is available. Back blogs and columns are at https://mykelsblog.blogspot.com. If you want to be notified when a new blog is published, send me an email with the subject line SUBSCRIBE BLOG.

→ It had to happen dept: The Washington Times reports: Limestone County Sheriff Mike Blakely, in Athens, Alabama, faces 11 counts of theft and ethics charges related to his job. After indictment, Blakely went to the hospital, where his lawyers said he was being tested for the Corona virus. But in a special hearing, Dr. Maria Onoya told the judge that while Blakely was indeed admitted to the hospital, and received multiple tests, none of them was for Corona.

I say, Nice try, though.

→ Another point of view dept: Speaking of God… We’ve got this from New Jersey… (click here for the full video)

→ The panic is worse than the disease dept: -- NDTV reports that a man in Vilnius, Lithuania, with help from his sons, locked his wife in their bathroom after she expressed worry to him that she got corona from a trip to Italy, where she came in contact with some Chinese people. The husband called a doctor, who suggested she isolate herself. She called the cops because her husband wouldn't let her out of the bathroom. It's unclear how long she was locked in. Later reports say she was tested for the virus and did not have it.

→ Sounds like the work of Antifa dept: The website Patch says that a fourth-grade teacher was arrested in Niles, Illinois, for assaulting a neighbor and calling her "a fucking Nazi." The teacher attacked the 87-year-old woman, who is German, in the parking garage of their condominium building, where the woman was exercising. The victim was struck and fell, suffering cuts and bruises.

LINK TRADE DEPARTMENT:

I read that the search engines like lots of links... and it's also nice to support my friends... and enemies... in their blogs. So facebookme or email me if you have a blog, webpage or something else to connect to. I add you. You add me.

Here's a start:

• From my friend and fellow poet, Richard Goldberg: goldberg.wordpress.com
• I post a blog for Kyle Nonnemon, in prison for a ton of shit. He's a smart guy, with a passion for industrial metal and a general detestation of humankind. You can read his blog at: apothelema.blogspot.com
• Poetry and humor fans will like Justin Martin in The Latency
• And my friend Mike R has a nice site with recipe hits from the past! (He cooked for me once... great stuff.) Check out .Yesterday's Recipes
• And here's one by a member of ANTI-SEEN... a tour diary of sorts.
• Andy Shelton has an interesting blog here
• Savage Hippie is a guy who has been YouTubing for a long time. Our opinions largely overlap... but he complains that I'm a Communist. I'm not! I'm a communist.
• Chris Stecher publishes a zine called PRECIS. You can see the back issue links there... and he promises a new issue soon.
• George Fertakis has a very nice graphics-heavy blog... with music and books featured prominently.
• And my long-term pal Sid Yiddish contributes with his Mishegas Master Blog.

CONTACT REDUX: You can contact me on facebook or by email at god@mykelboard.com. Through the post office: send those... er... private DVDs..or music or zines... or anything else (legal only!) to: Mykel Board, POB 137, New York, NY 10012-0003. If you like my writing, you can be notified when anything new is available. Send me an email with the subject line SUBSCRIBE BLOG.